


Postremo

by HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Imminent Demise, Love, Lovers, Open Ending, Pessimism With a Side of Optimism, Possibility Of Death, Sharing a Bed, The Others - Freeform, Thinking Of The Future, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:11:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady/pseuds/HiMyNameIsNotSlimShady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't remember if people started to give up when Stannis and his red woman's fire fell short on saving us at the wall, or when Daenerys Targaryen died from the frost and her dragons ran rampant killing our men. It took us three weeks to kill them. I'd never had dragon meat before then."</p><p> </p><p>I don't know man, I was having a lot of feels.</p><p>*Title translates to 'At Last' or 'Finally' in Latin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postremo

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling fairly angsty and it traversed into a writing containing one of my OTPs. Fortunately, it ended a bit happier than I thought it would. Praise the seven. 
> 
> If anyone is wondering how long the next chapter of A Smartass's Guide To Foreplay is going to take to get posted, have no fear it'll be up in a couple of more days. I just really wanted to get this out of me before I continued to write something more light hearted and comical. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop a kudos or a comment if you'd like!

The winter had raged long and hard, traversing Winterfell, down through The Twins, and threatend the border on Riverrun and Harrenhal. The Vale had been seized by storms full of hail and blinding white. Snow, which had rarely ever been seen in the south, peppered King's Landing lightly. A winter's frost grazed the grass and the southern people were beginning to realize the danger that pushed itself down through the villages of the north.

The Wall had been over taken, more red than white seeped through the ice and snow. No amount of fresh powder could blanket the dead that were strewn throughout the north. The armies of the Others and their soldier wights brought death and destruction with them. They traveled in legions that couldn't be counted by the eyes of men and no amount of fire could burn the dead quick enough to stop their resurrection.

Still, men fought. The left over weary men from the north, strong arrogant men from the south, island men with leathered cheeks and steeled eyes, and men who crawled from the bellies of brothels and dark alleys that had the blood of innocents dried on their hands long before they entered the cold battle between the forbidding winter and the rest of the world. They fought, and they died, and they burned.

Camps were stationed throughout Westeros. War councils run by generals from Stannis's long destroyed army and broken Lannister forces plotted different ways to push back the invading army and save their way of life. The cold had every man covered in thick leathers and stolen furs off of dead bodies no longer needing the warmth they offered. Fires burned in large pyres and and the stench of burnt human flesh seared the sky in thickets of black smoke. The cold was inescapable and so was death.

Famous knights and servant boys knew no difference from one another in battle. There was only survival. A man with a scorched past would find penance with a blade of steel in the back of a wight.

***

"How long do you think forces will hold at Maidenpool?" Brienne asked wearily as she fumbled with the straps of her armor. Her frozen fingers ached and bled where they cracked from the freezing tempratures. The small fire in the middle of the tent did little to warm her, and after a few struggling moments, Jaime gently pushed her hands away and expertly undid the straps with his left hand.

"Most of the islanders have camped there. I've never been confident in sea faring men wailing swords on solid ground," Jaime sighed as she pulled away her chest piece and let it fall to the ground without a care. Brienne stared long and hard at the fallen armor before directing her gaze to Jaime. His breathe caught in his throat at the unfamiliar tiredness making home in her eyes.

"How long till the Others advance on us?"

Her question hung in the air and Jaime's chest tightened. He dared not answer her. She looked away at his silence and continued to shed her armor. They'd been killing wights all day, attemepting to protect the small amount of Westeros yet unmarred by the undead army stampeding their way down south.

Brienne stripped till she was naked as the day she was born and practically crawled to the bed of furs on the ground. She turned her back to him and he slowly discarded his own clothes.

"Do you want me to be honest?" Jaime asked, his voice a whisper and hoarse. Brienne stirred under the furs.

"Yes."

"They will over take Maidenpool in a matter of days and by then it will be a week before they take us in Lannisport," Jaime stated with weariness. The last article he removed was his golden hand, tossing it to clang noisily on Brienne's armor. He massaged his stump and stared at their shared bed. Brienne barely pulled the furs past her shoulders despite the cold, despite the freezing tempratures. Damn the wench.

"When did we all lose hope?" Brienne asked. Her broad freckled shoulders lightly shook as she talked. Jaime strode over to the makeshift bed and slid in beside her. He pulled her against him and threw a tight arm around her waist. He tucked his stubbled chin into her neck and breathed her in.

"I'm not deigning that with an answer. Stop it."

Brienne dragged her fingers across his forearm gently and tugged one of his legs between hers.

"I can't remember if people started to give up when Stannis and his red woman's fire fell short on saving us at the wall, or when Daenerys Targaryen died from the frost and her dragons ran rampant killing our men. It took us three weeks to kill them. I'd never had dragon meat before then," Brienne's voice was interrupted by quiet trembles and small hiccups. Jaime tightened his hold on her.

"We must keep fighting Brienne, we must."

"I know that," Brienne snapped, giving him a hard glare over her shoulder. Jaime glared back.

"Then why ask bleak questions if you know the bleaker answers?"

"I'm hoping one day that the answers change. The seven help me why I expect them to."

Jaime rolled onto his back with a grim frown settling over his face. A moment passed before Brienne tucked herself into his side. He folded his right arm around her shoulders and laid his stump on her upper arm. He pulled the furs to  cover them snuggly before laying his left hand on her slightly protruding ribs. There'd been a lack of food for months and it was affecting all of the soldiers.

"I thought the council was served a greater helping come meals?" Jaime asked under his breath. Brienne tensed slightly then sighed loudly before settling her head on his chest.

"The men we send out scouting need it more than I."

Jaime fumed.

"So you're going to let yourself starve? Wench, there's a reason you're on the council!" Jaime hissed as he forced her head up to meet his gaze. Stubbornly she met his eyes with a grim face. A tick started in Jaime's jaw.

"If you become weak, you won't be able to fight. If you can't fight, you'll die. I'm not to keen on seeing that happen Brienne," Jaime hissed down at the straw colored hair that bobbed on his chest with every breathe he took. The gods help him. Throw him into an unwinable war with no resources and add a stubborn woman to help further his demise.

"Why should my life be any more valued than Simon who tends the horses? Or Deacon who strips down the bodies for supplies?" Brienne asked coolly. Jaime felt a familiar headache coming on.

"You can ask that while in my tent, between my furs, and lounging across me naked?"

Brienne stilled and turned to look at him. Her eyes were clouded and her mouth opened once before it shut itself. Jaime let his head roll back into the furs.

"How can I love such a  _stupid_ stubborn woman?"

Brienne frowned and made a point of pushing down on a purple bruise on Jaime's side. He groaned at the ache in his ribs but did little else to stop her, she'd feel guilty in a moment.

"If we live through this horrid war, Jaime Lannister, I may just kill you myself," Brienne muttered into the skin of his chest. Jaime smiled lightly.

"If we live through this Wench, I'll throw you over my horse and ride all the way to Bronzegate. Then, I'll sail with you to Tarth and raise dozens of wheat haired children. Out of our two plans, it seems mine is the more agreeable for the both of us."

Brienne huffed amusedly before she lifted the furs to cover Jaime more securely.

"Who's to say that I'd want your wheat haired trolls running about my precious Tarth?" Brienne questioned, her mood turning light. Jaime lived for the moments when she forgot the war.

"Because they'd be our wheat haired trolls running around Tarth. Their mother's blue eyes and ambition, and their father's good looks and personality. We'd make perfect babies," Jaime said rather smugly. Some place deep in his heart ached for that future, for the small chance that it could happen. Brienne snorted and cuddled closer into his side.

A few moments of silence lapsed between them and Jaime had begun to drift away into sleep when he heard Brienne's tiny voice.

"If this war takes my life, I can think of no better place to die than by your side."

Jaime's breathe stuttered at the declaration and he opened his eyes to peer down at her. Her bright blue eyes were set wide upon his face and his heart clenched.

"You'll regret those words wench," Jaime whispered with a small smile that held deep affection for his woman of Tarth.

Brienne returned the smile.

"There are some things that I have regretted in my life, but loving you is not one of them."

The declaration held unfathomable amounts of truth and love and Jaime couldn't help but share the sentiment. He pulled her up to him and kissed her long and deep and simply tried to be in the moment they had created.

They settled down for the few hours of sleep that they would need. Come tomorrow, they would be on the frontlines pushing forward on the Other's territory.

Half naked tanned children danced in the sunshine on an unknown seashore in his dreams.


End file.
